Eiri
by kitabi
Summary: Yuki Kitazawa reflects on his fixation with Eiri - leading to his impending demise. Short oneshot.


Author's Note: This is a short little fic I wrote over the course of a few nights to deal with boredom/ put off studying. :] I've always loved the Kitazawa/Eiri dynamic and so I thought it would be fun to write from Yuki K's POV. That whole back story is something I wish they had gone into more detail about in the anime, but I guess that's what fanfic is for, right? Haha. I probably could have made this loads longer but my the time I got to the ending I was getting impatient just to finish the thing, so I think it ends a little abruptly. But this is mostly just me having fun with the characters of Gravi. I love reviews, so please R & R!

Eiri

You don't know how you destroyed me. Yes, you, of the innocent eyes and golden hair. You with your warm smile and the kindness that tore my heart from its hinges. I was a different man before you entered my life: calm, rational, studious – a lover of books and knowledge and little else. You see, I had to be that way. Life had taken a harsh toll on me, and the end result was that I had learned not to trust anyone other than myself. You could say I had learned to be self-reliant at an early age. But you came into the picture and changed everything I had once secured – the lone traveler disturbing the restless silence of a stony fortress.

I look back and wonder when it all began. Was it when I first met you, when Seguchi introduced us that fateful day back in the Spring? I recall that day in a flurry of colors and motion. The bright sun and the shade of the poplar tree. Seguchi's warm, gloved hand reaching out to take mine. (Things were still friendly between us back then.) My own hand extended, clutched in his firm grasp, my eyes on the slight smile playing on the corners of his lips. Seguchi had never been one for outward displays of affection. He was always the cool, collected one in our circle of friends, the one with the highest work ethic and ambitions. We expressed our brief greetings and then he introduced me to you, Eiri.

It pains me to say that I remember little of this initial encounter. Perhaps it was the shade or the sunlight that obscured your features, or my own weariness and exhaustion from the day, or both. However, my impression was little more than that of a shy, pale boy with a soft-spoken demeanor. Seguchi had spoken to me earlier about your predicament, how you came to New York to get away from the bullying and taunts aimed at you by your classmates in Japan. There you were an oddity, a freak, a subject of ridicule. Seguchi hoped that a change of location and the chance to improve your English would bring you a better life. I smile now at that irony.

I was happy to take on the job of mentoring you, not for the love of educating itself but because it paid well (and Seguchi promised that I would be well compensated for my efforts) and work had been scarce to come by. My undergraduate studies in English had paved the way for little else but dull, dead-end secretarial jobs and a pathway to law school, neither of which inspired much excitement in me. The chance to teach, while perhaps not my first choice, at least gave me the means to use that knowledge for practical purposes. And so I cheerfully took you under my wing, _sensei _and student, captive and captor.

Things started out innocently enough. We met three afternoons a week while you attended the local private school in the area. Seguchi had high ambitions for you, he told me, though I believe he was in conflict with his wife about this, who thought a public school would benefit you more socially. I shrugged him off in the pretense that this is what all parents (or guardians, in this case) thought of their children: they were all the next high-class lawyers, expert surgeons, nuclear physicists – all with the potential for unlimited genius, if one could only unleash the untapped resources in the murky depths of their pubescent minds. And this is how I thought of you, Eiri, before we started working together. I pictured you as just another aimless youth, burdened by the expectations of over demanding authorities but without any real interest or direction of your own.

You quickly proved me wrong. I admit that I was unprepared for your eagerness to learn. You didn't just briefly skim through the readings, but devoured them, sometimes reading multiple times the various selections of prose and poetry I had assigned for you. You did not involve yourself with the sleazy teen magazines available at the bookstores we walked passed on occasion; you wanted the works of Jane Austen and Charles Dickens, classics of American literature. You told me that more than anything else, you wanted to be a writer. And as your language skills improved, it did not strike me as an unlikely outcome for you.

I suppose it was during this time that something in me began to take a greater interest in you. To me, you were no longer just a job, a means of employment leading to the ever-so-desperately-needed paycheck. I found I could relax around you, lower my carefully-constructed walls slightly.

That was a relief in itself. Aside from my younger brother, and the odd friend or two I had the chance of making while in college, my life had been for the most part a solitary one. Solitude served as my main means of protection; it barred me from the cruelty of the outside world, at least temporarily. It may have been a lonely existence at times, but it was the only way I knew_ how_ to exist. Then you came and, little by little, I wanted free of this self-constructed cage.

I can't pretend that I didn't take notice of your appearance. What had been an ugly duckling in Japan translated to a graceful swan in America. Not to imply any grace on your part, Eiri, as you tripped over things more times than I can count. But there was a certain beauty to your face, a kind of soft delicateness that was almost feminine. On our frequent trips to the park, the sun reflecting off your hair gave it a kind of golden shine. Once during one of our lessons in that same park (we were doing a descriptive writing assignment on wildflowers), you were standing in such a way that the sun glinted off your golden hair again, and I momentarily thought of running my fingers through it. I dismissed the thought as quickly as it came, but that night, three things troubled me as I attempted sleep: the sun, your hair, and how easy it would have been for me to reach out and touch it.

I began to take notice of other things, little things about you. The way you worked at your desk, hunched over your papers, eyes unblinking as your pen scribbled notes furiously. A bespectacled worker bee laboring intensely over the task at hand. It was almost funny had you not taken your work so seriously. The way you were always so cheerful, so happy to see me – that brightened my day more than I would care to admit. My heart warmed to your smile, to the sound of your laughter – how I would give anything to hear it again, now. I could always count on you for a good conversation, though you were rather shy at first. I started to open up to you, mentioning things to you that I had never told anyone else, perhaps aside from family. You were just so…_comfortable_ to be around.

I regret now that I let myself start to get a little too comfortable with you, Eiri. I promise that I did not start out with dishonest intentions; I just wanted to get close to you. You were always so warm, so receptive of affection, at the time I didn't realize the effect it was having on me. What did I know about caring for anyone else? I simply took what I wanted.

And you were what I wanted. I was like a small child suddenly gifted a new puppy, I was too enthralled to turn away. Yes, I think that is a proper comparison. You were like a puppy in some ways, always following me around, calling to me, listening to me. But I can't say that it irritated me, as a matter of fact, I enjoyed having you around. Perhaps it was a little selfish of me. When the time came I was unwilling to give you up.

Seguchi, the bastard, tried to snatch you away on the pretense of returning you to Japan for a year while he stayed in Tokyo touring with his band Nittle Grasper. I suspected that he was motivated just as much by dislike for me as he was by any possible career opportunities, but I kept my mouth shut in order not to provoke him any further. He was not fond of the bond we shared, and I think jealous that he himself did not inspire as much joy in you as I did, Eiri. I offered to give you a place to stay with me temporarily while Seguchi completed his time in Japan. Of course, I was politely turned down, but I am sure that there was a snarl locked away behind that innocent smile of his.

I had one more lesson with you before we were to bid our final farewells. I spent the night tossing and turning, thinking of what I could do, what I could say to make you stay here with me, in America. A multitude of scenarios crossed my mind, playing over and over like a bad record. You could stay here, you wouldn't need to leave the country again. You could have a fresh start, a new life. Finish school and obtain your citizenship. There were so many wonderful universities in New York. Eventually I ran out of possible things to say, and the situation seemed so hopeless that I started to daydream instead. I pictured us living together, me finishing my novel and you a college student with a promising future. I wanted it so much that it almost seemed like a possibility.

If only things had gone so smoothly. When we had finished our lesson for the day and you were heading home, I invited you back to my apartment, our last chance to be together…to say goodbye. As I had expected you to do, you eagerly agreed. I was only too happy to get to see you one last time, only now I wish more than anything that I had left you that night. Left you to Seguchi and Japan and a life that did not include me in it.

We had dinner at my apartment, talking about your stay in America, how much English you had picked up since coming here. (You had learned so quickly for a beginner, I remarked.) The glass of wine began to relax my nerves a little; I started to pay less attention to the conversation and more on the movement of your mouth, the soft pink lips. You bit down on them, looked up at me, and only then had I realized you had stopped talking.

It was now or never. Once again, I made the offer for you to stay in America while Seguchi busied himself in Japan. Didn't you want to stay here? Hadn't we had so much fun together? Why interrupt it now, when things had just gotten started? You didn't say anything, just stared at me with those wide, hazel eyes and I knew instantly that I had gone too far, crossed some undefined boundary. I had only been a friend to you, nothing more. Of course you didn't feel the same way.

Without thinking I drew you in and pressed my lips firmly to yours. They were soft as I had expected, warm and a little wet. At first everything was quiet. Then came the scream, piercing the silence in the dark apartment like a gunshot. I tried to grab a hold of you but you pulled away, backing against the wall. I knew in that moment that I had ruined everything; it was too late to back away now. I cornered you, frightened you. I had gone too far to apologize and and so all I had left to me was force – I would have you, one way or the other.

And then things took a turn for the worst. Two "friends" of mine that I had made in New York (and who I happened to know shared similar tastes) barged in the open door to the apartment. They had said they would stop by that day, but my thoughts had been preoccupied and had forgotten that small fact. I am ashamed of myself, ashamed of what I let them do to you, Eiri. I admit that it was very childish of me – I wanted you all to myself, but you wanted nothing to do with me. And so I sought revenge at the nearest available opportunity. I can only hope that with time, you may someday be able to forgive me.

I was not prepared for what happened next. A blast went off, and two men fell to the floor with a thud. I looked up, only to see you staring at me with tears streaming down your face, a gun in your hand, aiming straight at me. I will never forget those beautiful eyes of yours, Eiri.

Never.


End file.
